Comfort
by Mystic25
Summary: After working in the rain, Max gets sick..guess where she winds up? *Pure, mind-blowing fluff ahead* Season 2 wasn't on when I wrote this..so I didn't FORGET the viurs..it wasn't happening at the time


Title: "Comfort"  
Author: Mystic25  
Email: yellowrubberduck31@hotmail.com  
Summary: After working all night in the rain, Max gets  
sick and winds up at Logan's.  
Rating: PG 13, for Max bein' well..herself.  
  
Disclaimer: ahem...No, they're his and his and Fox's...thank you  
  
Author's note: This plot has been done countless times before,  
twice already by me. But most of them (mine included) are   
bunches of sentimental sap. Not that's there's anything wrong  
with that, I just wanted to see if I could write one that had  
TLC, but didn't make you nauseous. And, if I happen to slip and  
get too mushy in this..I apologize now. I'm a sucker for   
sentiment, but hopefully I can make this work. And this was written  
before Season Two, so no virus in this one..yay!  
  
*****  
  
Jam Pony X-Press  
6:23 p.m.  
  
"Man!" Sketchy stated wiping the water out of his eyes.  
"We may have to start building an ark if it keeps raining  
like this." A loud clap of thunder boomed, rattling the  
building.   
  
"I don't think dat this be the most stable vessel if da  
Most High re-visited the 40 day and 40 nights." Herbal  
argued looking at the pounding rain. Cascades of water   
hailed from the sky in such large amounts that there wasn't  
any object visible outside.  
  
"Can't argue with you there." Sketchy agreed, watching the  
weather reek its hell.  
  
Original Cindy walked out of the small cubby of lockers,  
and stood near the door less entry. "It's nas-ty out there.  
Glad I decided not to do my last run."  
  
"Yes. Always appreciate my kids doing LESS work then the  
meager amount they usually do." Normal stated behind his  
desk.  
  
"It's tearin' loose out there." Sketchy argued "No one  
in their right mind would go out in THAT." he pointed to  
the rain that was now slanting so that it came into the  
building.  
  
He was however proven wrong when Max's figure appeared out  
of the storm. Streams of water poured off her hair and her  
saunched clothes. "Normal, next time you give me the heads   
up on how LONG it takes to a location." She placed the  
wet bike against one wall of the building.   
  
Normal looked up at her "I gave you a map."  
  
She walked over to him, her shoes squeaking on the floor.  
She pulled a wet fold of paper out of her jacket "Hard to  
read it when it's breakin' hell out there." the paper was  
so damp that it crumbled under the weight of her hand.  
  
"I'll laminate them next time," he stated  
  
Max shot him a cold stare. "I could get pneumonia from this."  
She squeezed some water from her hair.  
  
"Might be beneficiary." Normal argued, "I mean if you get it  
now, you won't have to take sick days in the future."  
  
Max mumbled 'whatever' under her breath, and retreated off  
to her locker. She simply stuffed her other clothes into  
her bag, rather then getting changed. It seemed dumb to get  
another set of clothes wet.  
  
Cindy came over just as she was shutting her locker. "No   
offense boo, but you look the part of a drowned rat."  
  
"Always nice to hear." Max said in a clipped manner.  
  
"I'm just informin' girl." Cindy said in her defense "Original  
Cindy's not dissin'"  
  
Max yanked the backpack on one shoulder and walked out  
of the locker area. She shivered slightly in the warm air  
that came in.  
  
Cindy noticed "You feelin' okay suga?"  
  
Max blew her off "I'm fine. Just a little wet, but still  
functioning." she picked off a hair that was plastered to  
her face. "I'm headin' home to change."  
  
Cindy looked surprised "You sure you wanna ride that cycle  
in that mess out there?"  
  
Max looked at the havoc outside "Gotta go home sometime.  
And I can't leave my baby in this rain, she'll rust down  
her bolts."  
  
The look in Cindy's eyes didn't change "Just be careful  
suga. It's not pleasant out there."  
  
"I noticed." Max pointed out, and added "I'll do my best."  
She pulled the ignition key to her Ninja out of her pocket  
and headed out again into the storm.  
  
******  
doin' good so far...but I haven't even GOTTEN to Logan's part  
in this.  
******  
  
Max blindly tried to see her way through the rain. But it  
was almost impossible to do. She had already missed the   
turn-off to her building, and right now had no idea where  
the hell she was. The storm had turned the once familiar  
streets into an endless maze of muddy roads.  
  
For the third time in ten minutes a car swerved, to avoid   
hitting the woman on the cycle. Not only was Max wet, but  
she was cold, and incredibly nauseous. /Just what I need.  
Can't throw up here..my cookies would be tossed to the  
wind./ She wiped some water out of her eyes, fighting the  
queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. /C'mon, a sign,  
a fuckin' light. ANYTHING that will tell me where I am/  
Finally something familiar caught her eye.  
  
It was the parking garage of Foggle Towers /How the hell  
did I get so far off course?/ She looked up at the building  
where Logan lived, barely making out the lights from windows.  
  
/Wonder if he'd mind? No I can't impose. That'd be too rude.  
Hey Logan, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd toss  
my cookies in your bathroom./   
  
The rain was getting colder, so despite her earlier internal  
argument Max steered her Ninja in the direction of the parking  
garage.  
  
*****  
  
Outside Logan's door  
  
Max hesitated, her hand poised to knock /I usually just  
waltz right in/ Suddenly she felt dizzy, and that nauseous  
feeling that she had been fighting earlier now burned in  
the back of her throat. /I'll be more 'proper' next time/  
  
She picked her way into the apartment, closing the door  
so hastily it slammed shut. She made a b-line for the bathroom,  
and just barely made it there before she started vomiting.  
  
*****  
  
Logan had been in his computer room, typing, when he heard  
his front door slam. His hands stilled on the keys,   
"Hello?"  
  
He stood and walked out into his living room. There was  
no one there. Wet marks were clear on the hardwood floor.   
He didn't feel too alarmed. It was probably Max. She usually   
dropped in unannounced. And since it was raining cats and   
dogs outside, the water must have been from her shoes. But,   
where was she?  
  
He called out her name, walking around his apartment. As he  
neared the bathroom that was closest to the guest room, his  
ears picked up noises. "Max?" he rapped on the door with one  
hand "You in there?" When she didn't answer, he slowly pulled  
back the door.   
  
"Oh my god." he took in the sight of her, leaning over the  
toilet, throwing up. She was soaking wet, and puddles of   
water pooled on the tile floor at her feet. He didn't say  
anything, else but merely walked over to where she was and  
knelt next to her. He held back the hair from her face with  
his hands.  
  
She took no notice of his presence, just continued to  
retch violently. When she finally did finish, her knees  
were so weak from the strain of her hunched position that  
they gave out.  
  
"Whoa." Logan caught her before she toppled over backwards.  
"Max what happened?" he asked concerned "You're soaking wet."  
  
"No shit Sherlock." Max stated, through a quivering voice  
"It's raining. Shit ass storm made tossed me around so much  
that I wound up here instead of home." she looked at him   
"Sorry about the rude entrance." she stood on shaky legs,  
only making it halfway before she stumbled.  
  
Logan caught her again "What's wrong?" he was starting to  
get really worried.  
  
"Room's doin' a 180." Max informed, gripping his arm tightly.  
"Damn." she grabbed her head, nearly collapsing.   
  
"I got you." Logan reassured, picking her up before she  
cracked her skull on the floor.  
  
"Make that a 360." Max corrected, shaking her head.  
  
Logan carried her out of the bathroom. He could feel her  
trembling in his arms, and he hurriedly brought her over  
to his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed. Sitting  
on one end of his bed he touched her face "Max, you need   
to change into some dry clothes."  
  
She looked up at him "I stuffed the clothes I was wearin'  
in my bag, but I don't think there's a chance I can get   
back into them. You know what they say 'bout puttin' on  
jeans when you're wet." The uncomfortable sense of vertigo  
came back, making her shrink even further down in the bed  
"'Sides at this point I doubt I could stand up long enough  
to get dressed." she closed her eyes, and placed a hand over  
them.  
  
Logan was beginning to get really worried about her. If she  
openly ADMITTED that she felt run down, she must be really  
sick. He got off and walked over to his dresser. Opening the  
bottom drawer he retrieved a pair of coffee colored pj bottoms  
and a white spaghetti strapped cotton tank, both of which were  
hers and that she had left one time when crashing in his  
guest room.  
  
Clothes in hand he sat back down on the bed, placing them  
beside her "Here."  
  
She fingered the fabric of the pants "Been holding out  
on me?" sick as she was, she couldn't forget her smart  
mouth.  
  
"They're yours." Logan pointed out "You left them here."  
  
"I'm just messin' with ya. I know they're mine." she   
informed, a ghostlike smile on her face.  
  
Logan smiled as well "Live for the jibes huh?"  
  
"Mmmhmm." she replied good-naturedly. A series of hacking  
coughs shook her body, making the bed creak ever so slightly.  
The coughs were the kind that made you aware of all the ribs  
connected to your sternum in a very painful way. "Feels   
like I swallowed nails," she commented in-between hacking  
up a lung.  
  
Logan got her a glass of water from the bathroom, keeping  
a steady hand on her shaking one as she drank the water.  
His other hand rested on her back for support.  
  
"Okay." she announced after the coughing finally died down.  
"I gotta change 'fore my clothes stick to me so much I can't  
get them off."  
  
"Need any help?" Logan asked. It didn't have a trace of  
sexual desire, it was just concern.  
  
She shook her head "I think I can manage. Been dressin'  
myself for years." she paused and looked at him "'Sides  
I don't want an audience if I should happen to land on  
my ass." her comment had nothing to do with pride, but  
everything to do with training. She had engrained in her  
mind at a young age that showing weakness made you   
vulnerable, and it just stuck with her over the years.  
  
Logan hadn't even thought about that until she brought  
it up "If you're unsteady on your feet, you could hurt  
yourself."  
  
She shot him a knowing look. The 'you would know' remark  
was resting on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back.  
That would be cruel. He was just showing concern. He didn't  
need her re-visiting his every insecurity. "Yeah." she began   
trying to lighten the mood "But this ain't no burlesque."  
  
He smiled, mostly for her benefit "Fine. But call if   
you DO need any help."  
  
"You'll be my number one call man," she promised.  
  
When Logan saw that she wasn't going to get up, he left the  
bedroom to give her time to change. He busied himself with   
heating up some leftover soup from yesterday's dinner. He placed   
the bowl of potato soup on a wooden tray, along with a glass of   
water, some aspirin and an electronic thermometer.  
  
He knocked on the door to his bedroom before entering  
"You decent in there?" he expected a smart ass reply  
like 'who wants to know?' but was greeted with silence.  
  
Something didn't feel right. "Max?" he opened the door.  
Setting the tray he brought on the dresser, he faced inward,  
and his heart almost stopped.  
  
"Max! he hurried over to where she was sitting in the middle   
of his bedroom floor in a ball with her arms drawn around her   
knees. He knelt next to her for the second time that night   
"What happened?"  
  
"It was further then I thought." she joked softly  
  
Logan gazed at her, all concerned. "Let's get you back  
to bed."  
  
"I'm okay." she objected as he picked her up again. "I think  
you just like lifting things."  
  
He ignored her last remark, "You're not okay Max, you don't have  
to keep lying." he brought her around and laid her down on the  
other side from where she was before. That side had gotten  
damp from when she sat there with wet clothes.  
  
He pulled the comforter over her body. She snuggled down   
into it, cocooning it to herself, but she still was so cold.  
Her actions were not lost on Logan, who went to his large   
mahogany closet to retrieve another blanket.  
  
He covered her thoroughly. "Better?" he pulled a wayward strand  
of hair off her face.  
  
"Yeah." she admitted from under her nest of blankets "Thanks."  
  
His hand that had been playing with her hair now rested on her  
forehead "You're welcome." he turned on the electric thermometer  
he snagged off the tray. "Try something new." he wiped off the   
tip of the device "Open your mouth and exclude the action of  
making noise."  
  
She shot him a glare, but obediently parted her lips so  
he could slide the contraption under her tongue. The room  
was filled with silence as they waited for the thermometer   
to beep. It was however broken several seconds prematurely  
by the coughing that erupted from Max. Thankfully the thing  
beeped a few seconds later. "Sorry." she wheezed, "Hope that  
didn't screw up the reading."   
  
"No." Logan reassured, but not with an upbeat attitude.  
"101.1. Clear as day." He handed her the glass of water.  
  
She drank slowly, not wanting to wind up throwing it all  
back up later. She took the two aspirin he gave her as well  
and swallowed them both.  
  
He set the water back on the nightstand when she handed it  
to him. "I have soup, if you're up for it." he gestured to  
the bowl on the tray.  
  
She shook her head slightly "I don't think I could even  
keep that down right now." she rubbed her abdomen, trying  
to still the queasy feeling. "Maybe later when the kick   
boxing in my stomach isn't as apparent."  
  
"Still feel nauseous?" he asked in concern.  
  
Her eyes shot up to his "What did I just say?" /whoa girl  
lets not be a bitch, he's only asking/ "Sorry." she added  
  
"Don't worry about it." he reassured, touching his hand to  
her forehead again.   
  
"Umm.." Max hesitated for a moment with what she was about to  
say "Could you maybe put something near the bed, in case, you  
know-" this was making her embarrassed "What I mean is I don't  
want to make you have to go out and buy new sheets."  
  
Logan didn't say anything, but he retrieved the wastebasket   
that sat in a corner of his room and placed it right next to  
his bed "Would this work?"  
  
Max sized it up "The way I'm feelin' now I was thinking something  
along the lines of hauling a trash bin in from off the streets."  
she laughed dryly at her joke.  
  
But Logan didn't. His level of worry for her just went up   
another notch. He shifted closer to her, noting her pale  
complexion, and her brow dotted with sweat.  
  
"Logan, please don't shake the bed." Max ordered quietly,  
shutting her eyes to ward off the nausea.  
  
"Sorry." he apologized sincerely. When her eyes remained  
closed, he looked at her worriedly "Max?"  
  
"Get back to me when the room stops spinning." she replied,  
never re-opening her eyes. God, she felt so light headed,  
and that was making her even more queasy then she already  
was. When the nausea increased her eyes snapped open meeting  
Logan's concerned ones. "Think I need that now." she stated  
quietly, pulling herself into a sitting position.   
  
Logan immediately picked up the wastebasket to hand it to  
her. He held it straight as she threw up for the second time  
that evening.   
  
Max felt Logan place a hand on her back for support, but was  
more concentrated on keeping the disgorgement of her stomach  
in the can so she wouldn't wind up humiliating herself.  
  
After a few minutes she had nothing left to throw up, but  
dry heaves still shook her body. But eventually they ceased  
too, and she leaned back against the bed, exhausted by the   
whole ordeal. "I think that was every meal I ate in the last  
month." she commented as Logan went to clean out the basket.  
  
/This is so embarrassing. I can't believe I'm making him  
clean up my messes for me./ She wiped the sweat from her  
forehead with the back of one hand.  
  
Logan returned from the bathroom and set the waist basket  
back near the bed. He reclaimed his earlier position perched  
on the corner of the bed, the springs creaking slightly   
under his weight.   
  
"Thanks for being softer this time." Max commented randomly.  
  
Logan pushed back that offending piece of hair away from her  
face "I don't think you have anything left in you. If you  
got sick again, the vital organs would've been next."  
  
A faint smile crept on her lips "Might've been an interesting  
site to watch."  
  
"Or a disgusting one." Logan corrected.  
  
She cocked her eyebrow at him slightly "Hey, I might have  
sexy organs."  
  
He laughed quietly in the back of his throat. "Guess we'll  
never know." He looked at her seriously "Why don't you try  
and get some sleep?"  
  
"I don't sleep," she reminded him.  
  
"Humor me." he responded  
  
The phone on the nightstand rang.  
  
"See" Max pointed out "Even the rest of the world don't want  
me to sleep."  
  
"I'll get that." Logan announced, grabbing the whole unit  
off the table "You, take a nap."  
  
"Didn't you just hear me?" she asked.  
  
He shot her a look "Max-"  
  
"Okay, okay." she broke in "If it makes you feel better I'll  
fake it." she snuggled a little further into the bed.   
  
"Most people sleep with their eyes closed." he informed.  
  
"Beggars can't be choosers," she returned.  
  
He didn't respond to that, and finally picked up the phone  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How many rings does it take before you realize you have a  
call?" Original Cindy's voice stated from the other end.  
  
"I might have been out some where." Logan replied.  
  
"Not unless you grew fins suga." Cindy answered back, looking  
out her apartment window. "It is straight up stormin' out there,  
which is why I called." she started cutting to the chase "My boo  
didn't come back home, figured she came knockin' on your door."  
  
"You could say that." Logan responded.  
  
"I just did." Cindy let him know. "Anyway, I just wanted a  
lil 411. She looked a little funky when she left work today."  
  
"She's fine." he reassured "Well actually she's sick." he corrected  
"But it's nothing too major."  
  
"You sure 'bout that?" Cindy questioned, "'Cause I recall the last time  
something like that happened it was YOU who informed me that there was  
a possibility of death."  
  
"It's not like that this time." he responded. "I may not be a doctor,  
but I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with miss-firing neurons."  
  
"But it still makes me worry boy." she returned, "I don't think I've  
ever seen my girl just catch the average virus like the rest of us."  
  
"She'll be okay." he reassured again, stealing a glance at the   
woman in his bed.  
  
"Aiight." Cindy agreed with his has remark "I'm trustin' you on  
this Logan. Better not disappoint. Tell my boo to feel better."  
the call disconnected.  
  
Logan hung up from his end as well, setting the phone back on the  
nightstand. He turned back to Max, whose eyes were now closed.  
"Guess it takes being sick to put the great Manticore solider to  
sleep." he said this like a term of endearment. He leaned down  
and kissed her quietly on her left temple, looking at her briefly  
before climbing off the bed.  
  
He walked to the door, shutting off the lights as he went. The room   
was now lit only by the moon, faintly outlining the sleeping figure   
on the bed. He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him  
to give her some privacy.  
  
He went into his computer room, and began working on what he  
had been before this ordeal begin. He searched through online  
archives and made a few phone calls, gathering information for   
his next cable hack. Every few minutes though, his mind would   
wander back to Max.   
  
She had never gotten sick before, not unless a seizure was involved.  
And if she had, she'd never let anyone see her like that before.  
The woman had an awful lot of pride, but Logan suspected it had more  
to do with the training she underwent. She had told him more then  
once before how Manticore taught them that having or showing emotions  
were unnecessary moments of weakness. Self sufficentancy was also a  
major issue as well, soldiers couldn't always depend on anyone to  
come help them out of a jam.  
  
But, just because Max had that kind of training, it didn't make  
him any less concerned for her when she was down. Solider or  
not, she was still human, and human's could get sick.  
  
He made up his mind to check on her, and got up, wandering  
back in the direction of his bedroom. He opened the door quietly,  
to make sure he didn't wake her up if she were still asleep.  
  
The moonlight illuminated the room enough for him to see that  
the bed was empty, the covers rumpled. Light streamed from the  
small area of space under the bathroom door. He walked over to  
it and rapped quietly "Max, you okay in there?"  
  
"Fine and dandy." came the remark, although her usual level of   
sarcasm wasn't in it.   
  
Logan could here the water from the sink's faucet being turned  
on. Soon it cut off, as well as the lights. The door opened a few  
seconds later. Max came out wiping her face and neck with a damp  
washcloth. "I hate this. Cold, hot, cold, hot. Wish my body would  
make up its damn mind what setting it likes."  
  
"That's what happens when it tries to ward off infections."   
Logan pointed out, and was surprised when she suddenly leaned  
her head against his chest. "Max?"  
  
"Vertigo thing again." she informed, "You were closer then the wall."  
  
He didn't object, and pulled her closer so that her head rested  
on his shoulder, "Let me know when it stops." One hand idly rubbed  
her back.  
  
Her hands gripped his arms tighter for a few seconds, before  
gradually releasing their hold. "This session's over." she lifted  
her head to look at him "Thanks for being a human wall."  
  
"Anytime." he responded, tracing a finger down her left cheek   
"Can you make it back to bed on your own?"  
  
"Think I can handle it." she informed, moving away from him.  
  
He sighed in frustration as he watched her walk back to the  
bed. This was a stubborn woman; she never let anyone help her.  
  
A noise reached his ears, drawing him out of his thoughts.  
Max had completely buried herself under the blanket, and he  
could see the bed shaking ever so slightly.  
  
He walked over to her, now realizing that the bed had been  
shaking because of her seizure. He knelt next to her "Did  
you take your medication?"  
  
"A few minutes ago." she responded "It takes time to take effect."  
A tremor ripped through her body, making her gasp at the pain  
she was experiencing. "Logan?" one hand reached out to try and  
connect with his.  
  
Logan took her smaller hand in his own "Right here."  
  
"Don't leave." the words hovered somewhere between an order and  
a plea.  
  
"I won't." he deposited a kiss on her hand "I promise."   
  
She shifted painfully in the bed as another convulsion coursed  
through her body. Sweat beads began to pop up on her forehead,  
but she still shivered with cold.  
  
He pulled the blankets tighter around her body. "You're going   
to be okay." he reassured, running one hand up and down her arm.  
  
She responded to his touch, moving closer to the steady rhythm  
and warmth produced from his hand.  
  
They stayed in that position for what seemed like an eternity,  
until the tremors became less visible, and finally ceased all  
together.  
  
Max still remained in a curled up position, as if she didn't  
believe the convulsions to finally be over. But gradually she  
relaxed from her protective hold on herself and became aware  
of the worried pair of sapphire irises peering down at her.  
"Guess the worst is over." she informed, or tried to anyway.  
Her throat felt as dry as cotton.  
  
Logan handed her the water off the nightstand. She sat up and   
took it from him without a word, drinking a large amount, almost   
greedily. She erupted into a coughing fit, choking slightly on   
water in the process.  
  
"Easy." Logan consoled, setting the glass back where it had been before.  
  
"Maybe I spoke to soon," she admitted in between hacks, trying  
vainly to stifle them in her hand.  
  
He placed a long arm across her shoulders, and it's counterpart  
rested on her knee "It's okay." he reassured for the umpteenth  
time that night, trying to get her to believe it as well as himself.  
  
Her coughing was now beginning to mimic the sounds of a death  
rattle, and at this point, Max was beginning to consider death  
an good option, 'cause this hurt to damn much. What's wrong with  
me?  
  
"Shh." Logan soothed "You're just sick, it'll get better."  
  
She didn't realize that she had said that out loud /Great, nothing  
like a little pity to go along with how I bad I feel already..  
relax girl, it's worry, not charity. Don't be so defensive/  
"I've never felt this nasty before" this time she was very aware  
of the fact she had voiced her discomfort.   
  
"First time for everything I suppose." Logan steered their  
banter into a lighter mood, sensing her walls coming back  
up at the situation they found themselves in.   
  
Her coughing finally ended, but now her chest hurt right in   
the area where her collar bone was located. She hunched over,  
turning her face down towards the comforter "Feel free to   
shoot me if I don't improve before the evening is out."  
  
"I'm out of bullets." he commented   
  
"Can only get worse before it gets better." she sat in   
an upright position again, leaning back against the   
headboard. Breathing was now a difficult task unto itself.  
Her chest was incredibly stuffy, making her be reduced   
to quick, panting breaths, mimicking that of a dog.  
  
Her actions were not lost on Logan "Are you having trouble  
getting air?"  
  
She shook her head, trying to make a joke out of it "I'm just  
doing my impression of Lassie, after the exertion of getting  
Timmy out of whatever the hell he managed to do to himself in   
that episode." she said this all in one, labored breath "Just   
don't throw me any dog biscuits."  
  
Logan wasn't laughing this time, not even to lighten the mood.  
He simply handed her the napkin off the tray when she started  
coughing again, and became alarmed at the bright red substance  
that stained the white paper "Oh my god."  
  
"Not blood." she reassured, the ever present panting still there  
"It's just mucus, sputum-"  
  
"I know that Max." he objected "But it doesn't make me feel  
any better." he reached for the phone, and dialed a familiar  
number.  
  
"You're not calling the hospital are you?" Max asked "My low profile  
would be shot to hell by having my medical history plastered all over   
the AMA chapter of Seattle."  
  
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye "How can you be   
out of breath and still rattle on at two hundred miles an hour?"  
He watched her shrug. "I'm not phoning the hospital," he answered  
her earlier question. "I'm calling Bling-"  
  
"No offense Logan, but you depend too much medically on a guy whose   
only certified as a therapist," she objected to his plan of action.  
  
"Would you like a room at Metro that faces the garden or the  
street?" he threw the remark over his shoulder, as the call  
finally connected. "Hey, it's Logan, I need a favor." Yeah it  
involves Max, but not the way your thinkin'" he shook his head  
at the way these conversations always seemed to turn the same way  
"She's holding up here and has something that's making mucus."  
Logan listened for a few seconds "All right, see ya in a little  
bit, and thanks." he hit the 'end' button.  
  
He looked at her "He's coming over."  
  
"So I gather." Max shot back. "You should really pay him for  
these little house calls." she coughed again into the same   
paper towel.  
  
"Here." Logan handed her a clean one   
  
"The rich sure know how to live." she took it from him.   
But this go around the nausea she was experiencing hit her  
unexpectedly, and she didn't have time to ask for assistance.  
  
"Jesus." Logan handed her the waist basket, preventing her  
from messing up her already soiled shirt. The vomit was colored  
with the bright red sputum that came up at the same time.  
  
When she was done, he took the basket off the bed, rubbing  
her back with his free hand. He noted the stains on her cotton  
tank. Walking over to his dresser he pulled out a well worn  
t-shirt from his high school basketball years. Sitting back  
on the bed he handed her the shirt "Here. Put this on and I'll  
throw yours in the wash."  
  
She took if from him without a word, and climbed slowly out  
of the bed, heading towards his master bathroom.  
  
Shutting the door she flipped on the small light that was  
set above the counter. She turned on the water in the sink,   
cupping some in her palm and splashing it on her face. Her   
gaze turned upward towards the mirror. /God I look like hell..  
hollow eyes, pale skin, hair that's all chunked and plastered/   
She wiped off the mucus that stained a section of her chin.  
  
/That was so humiliating. All that fucking training to be quick   
minded in strenuous situations and I still can't move fast enough   
to not hurl on myself like some damn invalid./ She changed   
hurriedly into Logan's shirt, throwing her filthy one on the   
tile floor. One hand plucked a clump of oily hair from her face,   
but it pulled away soon to brace herself when the dizziness came.  
  
She gazed at her crappy reflection in the mirror, suddenly   
becoming angry at this disease for making her so feeble. She  
slammed a lone fist into the mirror, leaving a hole of shattered  
glass at the point of impact. The exertion weakened her sick body  
and she back up to sit on the ledge of the tub, cradling the  
cut and bloody hand in the other. She was now almost gasping for  
air, because of the strain of her previous action. But, she   
managed to pull herself together, and haul it off the tub. She  
switched off the light, and exited the bathroom, coming face  
to face with Logan.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking extremely worried "It sounded  
like something shattered in there." he gazed down at the blood  
seeping out of her closed hand. "You're hurt."  
  
She suddenly leaned against him, in an action that had nothing   
to do with vertigo.  
  
"Max? Are you dizzy again?" he became alarmed when he heard  
the sounds of crying partially muffled by his shoulder. He  
followed her down when she slid onto her knees. "What's  
wrong?" she was starting to scare him. Max had never cried   
openly in his presence before. He wrapped her up in his arms,  
not knowing what else to do.  
  
She remained silent and motionless for a few seconds, before  
snaking both arms behind his neck.  
  
He took this as a sign of permission, and pulled her closer  
"It's okay." he didn't know what the hell he was saying it   
for. But they were just the nonsense words you soothed to   
people just so they could hear your voice.  
  
"I hate feeling so weak." she finally answered the nagging  
question.  
  
Now he knew what got her upset. The shields and false bravados  
couldn't work if you weren't able to muster up enough strength  
to keep them believable. "Everyone's entitled to moments of   
weakness." he rested his forehead atop the crown of her head.  
  
She didn't say anything, but started clambering to her feet,  
not minding this time when he helped her. He didn't pick her  
up like last time, but simply guided, ready to catch her if  
she fell. Sick or not, she hated being coddled, and he had to  
respect that.  
  
They made it back to Logan's bed without incident. She managed  
to crawl back under the covers, just as Bling walked through the  
door. "Hope you don't mind that I used my key."  
  
"Not a problem." Logan reassured his friend as he approached   
them.  
  
Bling gazed with a clinical eye at the woman occupying the  
bed. "Heard there was something nasty forming in those lungs  
of yours." he sat on the corner of the bed "Mind if I take a  
look?"  
  
"Got a portable x-ray machine under that jacket?" she milked the  
literal side of his question for all it was worth. Sitting up,  
she leaned forward on the bed, with her back exposed "Knock   
yourself out."  
  
Bling blew on the end of the stethoscope he had brought with him,  
placing it under her borrowed shirt and against her back.  
  
"Damn." she jumped slightly when the instrument made contact  
with her skin "Those things are always cold."  
  
"Well kept medical secret that stethoscopes are also reflex  
testers." he moved the head of the device to the right side  
of her back "Take a deep breath in, and let it out slowly."  
  
Max filled her lungs with oxygen "So does that mean if I take  
a reflex mallet and place up to my chest I can hear my heart   
beat?" she exhaled through her mouth.  
  
"Not unless you know something I don't" Bling commented "Again."  
  
She repeated his directions, coughing when she let out her breath.  
This spell however, was dry, but bone rattling and painful.  
  
"Hurts more when you don't hack it out huh?" Bling removed the  
receiver part of the stethoscope from her back.  
  
"Like needle pricks vs. wielding machetes" Max moved back into  
an upright position "Give it to me straight doc-" she put just  
a touch of old Hollywood drama into her words "I can take it."  
  
"You have rauls." Bling diagnosed "Wet lungs. That and the   
coughing, nausea, and high temperature means we're looking  
at pneumonia. A mild strain, but one that'll keep you out  
of commission for a while."  
  
"How long are we looking at?" Logan asked  
  
"A couple of weeks at least." Bling estimated "Though her   
strengthened DNA might be in her favor, since it's been programmed  
to heal faster from infections then other people." he paused for a   
moment "Still even with that factor it will most likely be at least   
a week."  
  
"This day just keeps getting better and better." Max slumped  
against the headboard with a defeated air. "Logan you better  
re-stock your ammo supply, 'cause things ain't lookin' up."  
  
"Death by pneumonia and gunshot wounds, not something I want  
to see on a tombstone Max." Logan knelt next to her and took  
her hand that lay at her side "Those kinda things don't happen  
on my watch."  
  
"Or mine." Bling chimed in. He handed her a prescription  
pill bottle "I picked this up when Logan called, figuring  
I was dealing with either this or bronchitis. It's got an  
exporatant to help you cough more and clean out your lungs."  
  
Max rolled the orange bottle in her hand "Why is the cure always  
worst then the disease?" she scanned the label with an examining   
eye "This won't react negatively with my already wacked out DNA?"  
  
"It shouldn't" Bling responded "Your genetic structure maybe  
warped some, but it's still composed basically the same way  
as any other human being's. And there's nothing in there that  
you wouldn't find in most other OTC drugs." he picked up one  
of her hands, noting the blue color under her nails. "They  
ever teach you how to break up mucus manually?" he dropped  
her hand.  
  
"No" she responded negatively, showing him the hand she had  
gotten up close and personal with the bathroom mirror "Just  
how to break up everything else manually."  
  
"Damn girl, you tryin' to get two visits for the price of  
one?" he examined the her hand briefly "Just superficial cuts."  
he diagnosed "I'm guessin' that something's broken in this  
penthouse?"  
  
"Logan's bathroom mirror to be exact." she revealed, as Bling  
tapped up the small lacerations on her hand. She turned to face  
Logan "This wouldn't happen if you had a punching bag, or therapy  
ball around here."  
  
"I'll add it on my lists of things to do." he returned.  
  
"Well-" Bling started up again "The first thing on MY list is  
to knock out some of that sputum in Max's lungs." he turned  
to the aforementioned party "Basically I'm going to do your  
back like a conga drum, to try and shake loose all that mucus."  
  
"Always knew you were a 'player'" Max threw out. "So how do  
we do this bitch?"  
  
"Lean forward like before." Bling instructed, watching as she  
did as he asked.  
  
He then handed her a plastic container he had snagged from Logan's   
kitchen to serve as an enemies bowl. "I know it's a nasty idea."  
Bling admitted "But percale cotton sheets are more expensive then  
the price of tupperware."   
  
She took it from him without a word and positioned it under  
her mouth. She could feel the thud of Bling's hands on her  
back start up as he worked to clean out the mucus. The light  
pounding didn't hurt, but the sputum breaking up did. The mess  
came up in large, but spaced out amounts. The action sometimes  
got excruciatingly painful. However, Max would rather have her  
tongue torn out them admit she was hurting.  
  
Finally though, the pain became too much, and despite trying  
to channel all the agony into the death grip she had on the   
mattress, a whimper escaped her lips.  
  
She could feel Logan running his hand over her clenched one,  
finally succeeding in loosening her hold enough so he could  
slide his fingers in between hers.  
  
She now used all her stamina to keep her grip on Logan's hand  
light, despite the pain she was experiencing. Didn't matter how   
punk she felt, she'd kick her own ass for all eternity if she   
wound up breaking his hand.  
  
Finally Bling gave one last thud just under her right shoulder   
blade. "Finished Max, you can breath now."  
  
"Give me a minute to work on that." she got out still hunched  
over.   
  
Logan's hands were now on her face, wiping away what felt suspiciously  
like tears on her cheeks./Great, just added insult to injury. I've been   
submerged in subzero temperature water, had both legs and arms broken   
at the same time on three separate occasions, and then had them set with   
no anesthetic, starved for a length of weeks, but now, a few damn whacks   
on the back and I snap. I'm loosing my stamina./ Max pulled herself  
back into a normal position, wiping away the remaining evidence of   
weakened emotions before they caught the light.  
  
Bling picked up her hand without comment, slightly relieved at  
the disappearance of the blue color that use to be there.  
  
"My manicure that good?" Max quipped in a question  
  
"Just making sure my therapy did its job." Bling answered  
"I won't have any of my clients coding on me." he dropped her  
hand. "Take those-" he pointed to the prescription bottle "two  
every four hours."  
  
"And call you in the morning?" couldn't forget her smart mouth.  
  
"Hell no girl." Bling answered back, drawing out the word 'hell' "I  
sleep in the morning. Unless deemed absolutely necessary, ring me around  
noonish tomorrow."  
  
"Not a morning person I see." she teased, leaning back into the pillow  
behind her. Her body seemed to visibly sag into itself, and she then became  
aware of how utterly drained her 'therapy' left her. Her eyes seemed to drift  
closed on their own accord. For a person who didn't sleep, she seemed to be   
nodding off a lot today.  
  
"Normal lost the bet." she responded quietly, not opening her eyes.  
  
"How's that?" Logan asked, tracing circular patterns on her open palm with   
his thumb.  
  
"Told him I might get pneumonia from haulin' it out into the storm, and as  
usual he didn't believe me." an soft yawn over took her, followed by a series  
of dry coughs "Mistakes on him."  
  
"Yeah." Logan concurred gently "But at your expense." the last part of his remark  
had slight traces of what sounded like protectiveness. Like someone had sent his  
red flag up at full mast.  
  
Max didn't voice it, but it kinda made her feel good to know that someone cared  
for her enough to have her back on an issue like this. Use to be when she got sick,  
which was basically when she had a seizure, she would go through it alone, suffer  
quietly, crash in the dark, and finally shake it off to start another day. But now,  
all she had to do was breathe the wrong way and Logan would be there to try and   
help her in any way possible.   
  
"Might just fire me." she said around the rim of the water glass Logan had just  
handed to her. "Always plenty of healthy losers willing to take my place."  
  
Logan set the glass back on the nightstand "I'll take care of it." the protectiveness  
was back in his voice with strong force.  
  
"Down trodden thing again." she informed with a heavy voice. "Blah blah woof woof.."  
she trailed off near the end, sleep finally winning the battle over her body.  
  
Logan silently re-covered her body with the comforter, pulling it up around her  
shoulders. He wiped the accumulated sweat from her face with the damp rag she had  
gotten earlier.  
  
"Let her rest for a few hours before getting her to take these." Bling tapped   
the pill bottle. "She shouldn't be bothered by any sputum tonight since I just  
broke it up."  
  
"Thanks again." Logan stated to his friend, not taking his eyes off Max.  
She looked so innocent and young lying there. Almost made him forget of all  
the horrors she had seen and undergone. Right now she looked like the little  
sister Maxie, that all the X-5's remembered from their youths.  
  
"Not a problem." Bling echoed Logan's earlier remark, "Just take care of her."  
He turned and walked out of the bedroom.  
  
After Bling left, Logan still sat on the bed, holding her hand and watching  
her sleep. Several times she would sit up coughing, and he would slip a hand  
behind her neck, offering her water to soothe her parched throat. She was never  
fully awaken during these times, and would fall back asleep almost immediately.  
  
This kept repeating itself until the first dim rays of light came out of the  
gray mass of clouds at the beginning of the new day.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, true to his word, Logan dialed up Jam Pony.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Logan had to pull the phone back slightly from his ear. T  
he guy was too   
anal for this early in the morning. "This is Logan Cale-"  
  
"Oh yes, the high society connection of my elusive and cocky worker bee  
Max." Normal cut in "Speaking of which, you tell that walking mouth that  
she has twenty minutes to get herself down here if she wants to still  
find herself employed-"  
  
"That's why I'm calling." Logan interrupted this time. "Max won't be able  
to make it in today."  
  
"What is it this time?" Normal didn't sound convinced that this was a real  
excuse. "Did her aunt get run over by a speeding moped that was driven by  
a two headed dog?"  
  
"No." Logan informed in a clipped manner "She has pneumonia."  
  
"Uh huh." Normal still thought this was a joke "And last week she claimed  
she was infected with the Haunta Virus. At least make these things worth  
my while."  
  
"Look-" Logan broke in, irritated "Do you think it was worth *my* while to  
sit up with her and watch her get no sleep because she either had to throw  
up, or try to throw up to the point of exhausting herself?"  
  
"Thought she didn't sleep." Normal muttered to himself "You mean to tell me  
that the girl actually has pneumonia?"  
  
There was some sort of noise on the other end for a minute. "Logan?" Cindy  
slapped away the hand that Normal was using to reach for the phone that she  
had snatched. "Did I hear that right? You said it was nothing to worry about."  
  
"I thought so at the time." he responded honestly "My therapist however proved  
me wrong when he examined her."  
  
"How bad is this?" Cindy wanted to know  
  
"She'll be down for about a week, he thinks, but it's not a really bad strain."  
he hoped he sounded reassuring. "Plus with her genetics she should be able to wack  
this thing faster." again there was little reassurance to back up his claim.  
  
"Let me talk to my girl."  
  
Logan, was about to decline, when he heard shuffling footfalls. He turned to  
see a disheveled Max blinking in the relative brightness of the living room.  
  
He covered his hand over the receiver. "What are you doing up?" he chided gently.  
  
"I needed some water, and I wasn't about to wait for the 'help' to get off the  
phone." she informed dryly. "Who are you chatin' with this early?"  
  
"Called your job," he responded "Normal didn't believe me when I told him  
you got sick, and Cindy snatched the phone from him when I said it was pneumonia.  
She wants to talk to you." he eyed her critically "That is if you're up to it."  
  
She merely held out her hand to receive the phone, which he placed in her hand.  
  
"Hey." she croaked out  
  
"Girl you sound terrible." Cindy let her know  
  
"Why do people feel the need to tell me these things?" she pushed back the hair  
from her shoulders.  
  
"Didn't know my suga could catch regular viruses."  
  
"I'm not tinkered to be completely immune to every ailment," she informed "But  
I will kick Normal's ass for doin' this." she suddenly groped for the wall,  
feeling the nagging dizziness return.  
  
Logan saw her stumble, and reached out to catch her "Easy." he led her over  
to his couch and pushed her down into it.  
  
Max leaned back into the cushion, trying to control the vertigo through mind   
techniques.  
  
"You there suga?" Cindy's concerned voice asked  
  
"Yeah." Max's hard voice cracked ever so slightly. This disease was taking its  
toll on her.   
  
Logan rubbed her knee with a lone hand, glad that her defenses weren't up enough  
to make her pull away.  
  
After taking a shaky deep breath Max addressed her friend again on the other  
line. "Normal thought I was weavin' a web of lies again?"  
  
"Uh huh" Cindy answered "He probably thought he was gonna win a bet or  
something he made." she paused for a moment "But I actually wish the dude  
was right this time."  
  
"You and me both." Max responded honestly "Ditchin' work ain't fun if you  
can't do anything but sit on your ass-" she cleared out that nasty cloggy  
feeling in the back of her throat with a loud raspy cough.  
  
"That don't sound right suga." Cindy informed.  
  
"It don't feel right neither." Max returned over the phone. "This crap inside  
me is takin' up residency in my organs."  
  
"Boo, if Cindy could, she'd put the smack down on that lil bugger."  
  
Max smiled slightly from her end "Appreciate the thought." that cloggy  
feeling had returned, bringing up some sputum with it. She hacked up  
a large amount onto the paper towel. "Sorry." she apologized again to  
Cindy with a strained voice.  
  
"It's aiight suga." Cindy consoled. "I'm gonna swing by later to the rich   
and famous part of town and chill with my downed home girl."  
  
"'Kay." Max stated, starting to breathe heavier "See ya then." she disconnected  
the call.  
  
"She's coming over?" Logan asked hanging up the phone for her.  
  
"Yeah." Max got out, in-between deep breaths. The pressure in her chest was  
growing. She placed one hand over her breastbone.  
  
Logan noticed "Are you okay?"  
  
"Feels like I'm under water." Max admitted, pounding lightly with her fist.  
  
"I'll get you some meds." he rose off the couch to retrieve the prescription  
bottle Bling had brought over last night. When he came out he found Max leaning  
over, her arms pulled to her chest criss-crossed. She was breathing erratically.  
  
Logan quickly made his way over to her. He touched a hand to the nape of her  
neck. "Max, you gotta sit up for a sec. so you can take this."  
  
Slowly and with deliberate movements Max sat up, and shakily took the meds  
he handed to her along with a glass of water, some of which she wound up   
coughing out, in her struggle to get air. "Hard to breathe." she gasped out  
"Like back in the water tanks at Manticore." she began panting.  
  
"Drugs should take affect soon." Logan comforted. "Just relax."  
  
"Can't" she argued, exhaling a scratchy half puff of air "God. I. Can't.  
Breathe." she looked at him, her eyes betraying how scared this made her.  
  
"Max." Logan placed and arm across her shoulders and drew her to him "You're  
okay. You're breathing. You're not back at Manticore. The meds will help, it'll  
be okay." he could feel her harsh breaths on his shirt.  
  
She clung to him, despite her inner solider voice kicking her ass for being  
weak. /Damn, the world is getting funky..it hurts..it hurts to think. Suck it   
up Maxie. Get your head in the game./ The pressure was still lingering, the drugs  
working effectively, but slowly. "It hurts." she voiced out loud. "Damn." her  
chest felt like it was on fire.  
  
"Stay with me." Logan ordered gently.   
  
Finally, after eternity came and went, the drugs took effect. The exporatant  
brought up more sputum that Max threw up into a bowl Logan handed her. Her  
weakened physical state also weakened her emotions, and she found herself   
actually crying at the pain. /Soldiers don't cry Maxie. Don't be a weak link./  
  
"It's over." Logan soothed to her when she finally fell against him, exhausted.  
"You're okay." he wiped away her tears with his hand.  
  
"I am such a wuss." Max stated angrily.  
  
"No your not." Logan informed fiercely.  
  
The front door chose at that moment to open as Bling came in. He stopped  
short at the scene of the two people on the couch. "Is everything okay?"  
  
"Fine." both Max and Logan answered simultaneously.  
  
"I gotta clean this out." Logan announced, standing up to empty out the basket  
he held in his hands.  
  
Bling eyed Max critically "You looked like something the-"  
  
"Don't even go there." Max warned, running her hands through her sweaty hair.  
  
Bling could almost hear the hiss in her voice "So," he changed the subject  
"You get any sleep last night?"  
  
"Do I ever?" Max returned, leaning against the crook of one arm. She still  
wore Logan's old basketball shirt, but had rolled up the sleeves, revealing  
toned shoulders muscles, products of Manticore genetics, and her after hours  
job as an ass kicker.   
  
"Touche." Bling answered, finding himself in a stalemate "Are the meds working?"  
  
She shook her head "Feel a little funky, so yeah."  
  
"Funky means it's working" Bling stated.  
  
"Then I'm on the road to recovery" Max threw back sarcastically.  
  
Logan returned from his task claimed the empty spot on the couch beside Max.  
He checked his watch "Noon exactly, wow" he glanced over at Bling "And they say   
being on time is a lost art"  
  
Bling gave a low laugh in the back of his throat. He produced the infamous   
stethoscope from the black bag he carried "Shall we?"  
  
Max sighed "Nothing like a little examination before breakfast"  
  
*****  
  
FOUR DAYS LATER  
  
Max sat at the dining room table, after taking a hot shower. She was now dressed in  
Logan's red terry towel robe. Though Logan had picked up some extra clothes from her  
apartment, she still preferred this particular item above her own robe.  
  
Something unspoken had occurred the fist night Max had arrived here sick and   
soaking wet. She had been recuperating at Logan's penthouse for four days now.  
Even Normal had given her sick leave, with only half pay, but it was better then  
she'd expected.   
  
Cindy had visited on the second day, presenting her with, of all things a  
case of oil. /"Figured you'd try to defy logic, and go out sick to buy some   
of this since you mentioned you ran out, so-" "Thanks girl" Max took the black   
plastic bottle from her. "Premium" she read the label with a smile "You are   
too good to me"/  
  
Sipping her coffee, (decaffeinated, since Bling advised against intermixing caffeine   
and the meds) she listened to Logan clatter around in the kitchen.  
  
"You'd a made a great house wife" she laughed at her own joke  
  
"Always nice to know that you think I'd make it good as a woman" Logan shot  
back, stirring the egg mixture in the frying pan.  
  
She cocked her head sideways for a second  
  
Logan observed her "What?"  
  
"Trying to picture how you'd look in a apron"  
  
He threw the first thing that was handy at her, which was an old magazine.  
  
Max ducked expertly, and the old issue hit the floor with an unresounding thud, not  
even touching her at all.  
  
"Glad to see those reflexes haven't suffered" Logan set her breakfast of scrambled   
eggs with oregano and basil and buttered Texas toast with gravy.  
  
"Only thing that didn't" she threw back, looking down at her plate "This looks great"  
she poked at the toast with her fork "chip beef-haven't had this in a while."  
  
Logan took a seat beside her "I'm pretty sure mine isn't as grimy as you had at   
Manticore. My cousin joined the Army so my aunt learned how to cook this."  
  
"Staple of a soldier's diet" Max commented around a mouthful of food "Well for  
Manticore, that, and the rounds of barbiturates and cocktail drugs."  
  
He didn't know how to respond to that, but before he could say anything she began to   
speak again.  
  
"Don't know if I've said it yet but-" she sipped her decaf "thanks, for lettin' me  
crash here"  
  
"Not like I was gonna throw ya out in the rain that after I saw the condition you  
were in," he recalled the first night, when she had showed up at his door, cold, wet  
and sick.  
  
"My foster place, the guy, we weren't ALLOWED to be sick, me and Maria.  
He'd be pretty hard on her if she couldn't clean and cook and shit. I hardly  
got sick, but when I had my seizures-" she laughed humorlessly "Think he  
liked me better for that BS more 'cause I was just something taken in off the   
road. Felt like Manticore, 'cept I couldn't beat his ass, kept remembering Deck's   
mantra 'bout exposure"  
  
"You just sat there impassive?" Logan seemed a little in disbelief that she  
didn't just haul him one, he certainly would if he got his hands on him now.  
  
Max shrugged "Trainin' was still fresh, he was older so that made him higher in  
the chain of command. Sides know one knew. Maria wouldn't say anything, and her   
father was good at lying to cover it up. I healed faster then her, so it was less   
noticeable when I went out. When I was thirteen he beat me one time too many. I came   
back, had him pinned with a bloody lip and cracked ribs on the floor. Someone  
called the cops and I bolted 'fore the arrived" she glanced up. Logan was looking  
at her with compassion "Didn't tell you this so I could be pitied. I don't do that"  
her voice was fierce.  
  
"That's not what I want." he came back "I don't pity you Max. Staying home from  
school, food in bed, mom, dad and Lori tryin' to entertain me, even though Lori  
sometimes had been bribed by dad, that's what I associate with being sick at that  
age. And because you were pummeled on when that happened, that's why I offer you  
the look"  
  
"Chicken Soup for the Manticore Enhanced Soul." she recited "Chapter One: "What the   
Hell is This?"  
  
  
He pulled some hair away from her face "being sick or hurt as a kid should' a been   
great down time"  
  
"Zane had to piggy back me once when I chipped my clavicle falling on the  
ice, was numb most of the way back from the mission, that was my down time-"  
she broke off with a cough.  
  
"Don't think that counts," he informed  
  
"Yeah *cough* but we took *cough* what we could get" she hacked now into her  
cupped hands.  
  
Logan stood up and went around to the back of the chair. He placed one hand on  
her shoulder, and passed her the tupperware that she had used before.  
  
"Just tryin' to protect your table," she joked, throwing up more sputum.  
When she finished he took it from her.  
  
"Go-"  
  
"Yeah, I'm gone" she finished before he could. She abandoned her food and  
headed over to the couch. She sank into the well worn leather. It was a   
different experience for her to be sick and have someone ACTUALLY give a damn.   
Cindy cared, but still, this felt different. She had been catching a cat nap   
the day her boo had visited, stretched out on this couch. /"Max" something  
had shaken her awake. She opened her eyes and blinked. Logan's hand was on her  
forehead, cupping it gently "Sorry, but you remember who said she'd come over"  
he nodded at Original Cindy. "Aiight I'm up" she pulled herself into a sitting   
position. After she got comfortable Logan stood back up "Be working in the   
office, yell if you need anything."  
  
"Black Market or mainstream?" she quirked and added "'kay" with a lazy smile.  
  
After he left, Cindy turned to her girl "They say home remedies are the best"/  
  
"Max?"  
  
In the here and now, Logan sat beside her, his brow creased "Something wrong?"  
  
"Other then the fact I'm goin' stir crazy, nothin'" she leaned back against the  
couch "Hate bein' held up so much"  
  
"Your-"  
  
"I know!" she barked back "I'm sick, kinda hard to forget the way I've been  
feelin' like crap!"  
  
Silence hung in the air, and then Max spoke again "I'm sorry, I didn't   
mean to go off-" she adapted a guilty look on her face. I just missin'  
hangin' out wid my guyz, and ridin' my baby. Patience was never a Manticore  
virtue"  
  
"And you show it so admirably" he kidded softly, and added "Don't worry about  
it, being cooped up for four days isn't fun for anyone." he then got an idea.  
  
*****  
  
Waterfront  
  
"Shoes gotta stay on this time" he ordered to the woman beside him.  
  
"Dammit it all!" Max joked taking a seat in the sand. It was a chilly 59-degree  
day. Normally she didn't need too many heavy garments because of the way she was  
created to produce double her own body heat in case of sudden temperature changes.  
But being sick had taken it down a notch. So she put on her heavy black wool fleece  
under her jacket.  
  
Her Ninja was parked on the road and triple bolted to the chain linked fence.  
  
Logan sat beside her, draping an afghan blanket over them. The knitted throw  
rustled against her jeans. "Nice day" she threw out  
  
"Oh yeah" Logan responded with a bit of sarcasm. The wind chill made it feel colder,  
especially down by the water. "Like a day in a freezer"   
  
"Deck called this "endurance weather", she inhaled the salty air deeply "forty-  
below was a freezer for him"  
  
A single gull flew across the gray sky, before swooping down near the water's   
surface to forage.  
  
Max traced a pattern in the sand with her leather glove covered hand. Though  
it was a typical, gray drizzly day, it felt good to be out, being indoors for   
too long just made her feel like a caged animal.  
  
"It's not too cold for you is it?" Logan asked of the weather.  
  
"Coo'" she reassured, smoothing her hand over her earlier drawn design in the   
sand. "I can handle worse," she well remembered falling through the ice when they  
escaped.  
  
She stared out over the water's rough surface. Cobalt blue waves broke against  
the dirty shoreline. "Thanks for comin' with me"  
  
"Just wanted to make sure you'd be okay"  
  
"I'm a big girl," she concurred  
  
"So?" he didn't take his eyes off the water  
  
She stopped tracing for a second at his remark, and dusted off her gloves.  
She stood, brushing more of the powdery sand off the legs of her jeans. A couple   
of steps ahead and she was at the point where the waves lapped at the shore.  
  
A rock nudged her boot and she picked it up, testing its weight in her hand.  
"It's amazing-" she glanced back down at the flat, obsidian black stone. "Too  
most people, when they throw this across the water, it's sort of a release of  
boredom." she flicked the stone so that it skipped across the top of the  
water three times before clunking in the depths. "For us it was a signal. Three  
skips, and the ones submerged under water would show themselves, catch the  
objective by surprise. But until then, we were just skipping rocks" She turned  
back to Logan still sitting in the sand. "Maria lived near the water, and  
sometimes I wished that there'd be someone there. Always wanted it more for her  
then me. I felt that shit for a year. She had it for life"  
  
Logan stood up, piling the blanket in a heap on the sand. He stepped up to  
where she was at, and picked up a stone from the water.  
  
"You aren't responsible for her fate Max" he skipped the stone three times across the  
water.  
  
"A squadron takes care of its own," she paused "She was like us in a lot of  
ways. Afraid to disobey orders, doin' the recognize of the "yes sir" So I was  
responsible" a rock clunked in the water, with no skips "He was beatin' her up   
that day. I came downstairs and he went off on me too for interruptin'. After  
the cops came, I just left. No doubt the shit paid them to look the other way,  
did before." she stopped skipping rocks and just stared out over the water.  
A shiver caught her spine and worked its way up.  
  
Logan noticed "Cold?"  
  
"I usually produce more heat when the temperature drops, but since this bugger-"  
  
"So yes?"  
  
She glared at him.  
  
He put one hand on her shoulder, and pulled her back.  
  
"What are you doin'?" she questioned.  
  
"You should know that body heat is the best way to regenerate warmth" She  
was now pressed up against his back. He could feel the cool leather of her  
jacket even through his sweater.  
  
"Yeah, but usually it's when the peeps are naked and wrapped in a blanket"   
she tilted her head back to gauge his reaction on that.  
  
He just took it in strides and came back with "We have the blanket"  
  
She shook her head with a slight smile, and gazed back over the water.  
One of his hands in the leather glove reached out and covered hers.  
She did the same, interlinking their fingers together.  
  
"Thanks for takin' care of me." she broke the silence with that remark.  
"No ones ever done that before"  
  
He squeezed her hand through the gloves. It hurt him to hear statements like that  
"You're welcome," he kissed the back of her head. "We should go, before you-"  
  
She shook her head "Not yet, where's your sense of adventure?"  
  
"Someplace warm"  
  
"C'mon" she gave him the infamous pout over her shoulder "I'm sick, it's my TLC time"  
  
He sighed, defeated "Okay" That look always got to him.  
  
They sat back down, Max laid her head in his lap, and he re-covered her  
with the afghan.  
  
"Logan, don't be Prince Charming, use the damn blanket if you're cold"   
  
"I'm fine, I'm not the one who's sick"   
  
"Your also not the one whose genetically enhanced" she was back to tracing in  
the sand on her side. Eventually she began to wear out, from being sick, and  
she stopped. "Can't even stay awake when I want to be adventurous" her words were   
soft behind a yawn.  
  
"Shh, just go to sleep," he messed with her hair "I'll wake you up when its time  
to go"  
  
"And the down trodden rejoice" her eyes closed.  
  
After sleep over took her features Logan leaned down close to her ear, brushing  
the hair away "I love you Max" he told her "And one day I hope you realize that"  
  
*****  
  
END  
  
I started this durin' summer vacation, but I had a serious case of writer's  
block. This was four months in the making. Hope you could keep down the fluff.  
Chip beef on toast is real military mess hall food, my mom got the recipe   
from the air base cook where I was born, and it's REALLY good. A few side notes:  
YES I am aware that Max could get worse sittin' out in the cold on a beach, but   
she's hyped up..and YES I know that you don't get pneumonia just from going out  
in a storm. Also am aware of the fact that Max is immune to a lot of shit,  
but for my fan fic's sake I changed that. If Logan can have a neighbor above his  
penthouse, Max can get pneunmonia.  
  
Please R/R..if ya send me gram crackers and chocolate I can make virtual smores with   
all the fluff that's in here:) 


End file.
